One Mischievous Day
by DracoAura
Summary: I don't normally write sappy love stories, but I've been entertaining this daydream for years now, and I need it out of my head. This is a one-shot based with Loki from the 2012 Avengers. Loki x First Person.


I checked myself in the mirror one last time. Released a breath I didn't realize I had been holding. If I was to be completely honest with myself, I didn't look half-bad, despite not dolling myself up all the time. But one thing was missing.

My lips formed a thin line. I subconsciously bit my bottom one as I picked up the tube of red lipstick. My eyes flickered to my reflection. Watched the crimson lipstick make my lips far more predominant than I'm used to. Another deep exhale.

Then I couldn't contain myself, and I released a nervous laugh. I looked good. Normally, I palled around in an oversized hoodie and men's basketball shorts with my hair pulled in a tight ponytail. Granted, my hair was still in its ponytail, but my face was pretty for once. My body actually looked nice in my outfit.

I chuckled a bit. The bright red, snakeskin-patterned skinny jeans were an impulse buy because I felt bold one day. And the semi-sheer black top with a fashionable zipper on the side should be something a model wore. Yet, it was on me. Then my eyes focused on my collarbone. A necklace with two dragons wrapped around a heart.

My gaze lifted so I could hold my own eye contact. Yeah. I was the Queen of Dragons, today. No turning back now. Besides, neither queens nor dragons backed down from a challenge. Even if my current challenge was my own self-esteem.

With a final nod of affirmation, I went to my car. Selected the USB function as soon as the engine turned over. Plugged in my phone and opened my rock playlist. Nothing made me feel better like blaring some rock 'n' roll. Now to the highway.

I checked the speedometer once I obtained a spot in the fast lane. A tad over eighty miles an hour. I grinned, very much aware the speed limit was only sixty five. If I was going to be a rebel, then I was going to be a rebel. And this was as close to rebellion as I could get: a statement outfit and makeup, overly loud music, and speeding.

There wasn't much to my life. Just a part time job in the customer service industry that sucked, a family who didn't understand the "nerdy life," and the internet. I know it seemed cliché or stereotypical, but it was the life I lived. Although, there wasn't much use in complaining about it because I knew I wasn't the only one. Most of the people I talked to online had the same problems.

But right now, I was enjoying the small taste of freedom this day off away from everything provided. The car windows were down, the moonroof open, music blasting, and I wove through traffic like the race car driver I always wanted to be. Thankful I had the way to the art museum on memory lock-down.

The art museum was one section of a much larger park that also held the city's zoo, history museum, botanical gardens, etc. And, of course, the park itself. I liked coming here to get away from my personal struggles. I do a myriad of attractions or sit on a picnic blanket and people watch with the excuse I was gathering research for my novel.

My eyes widened when I saw the traffic within the park, but one look at the zoo told me it was for the animals. Field trip day, it seemed. I groaned. Small children running around unsupervised and screaming their heads off annoyed me to no end. Hopefully, they would stay away from the art museum.

Now, to find a parking space. I blew a strand of hair out of my face. Fingers tapping on top of the steering wheel. Where, or where, was an empty space…ah-ha! Mentally high-fiving myself, I whipped into an available spot before a jerk could steal it. My blinker was on; it was mine.

Stepping out of my vehicle, I surveyed the crowd from behind my sunglasses. Surprised by the diversity of people coming to see this new medieval exhibit. Hip college students, elderly couples, the like. But what surprised me more was amount of formal attire. One man even had a funky gold cane and green scarf.

An eyebrow rose, and I looked down at my rather bold outfit. Perhaps I was under dressed? Or maybe too defiant for this event? Oh, boy. Here came the social anxiety thanks to my over-thinking brain.

I checked my phone. No texts. No comments on Pinterest, Facebook, DeviantArt, or any social media outlet to respond to. Well. So much for my procrastination attempt.

A—hopefully—final deep breath, and I grabbed my sketch stuff from the passenger seat. Sliding the straps of my bag over my left shoulder, I locked my car. I tried walking casually across the street. Using the striped pedestrian zone as the Beatles used Abbey Road. Looking much more confident with my silver aviators on than I actually felt.

Which immediately changed when I entered the building, and my sunglasses came off. I felt like everyone stared at me, whether they were or not. Although, no one seemed to be looking at me when I dared to look around. I clutched the straps of my bag decorated with Celtic/Nordic knot work. Purchased my special exhibit tickets from a nice lady at the service counter.

I mentally reminded myself I was the Dragon Queen today as I headed for the right wing. Wanting to see the new medieval arms and armory. However, the ancient Mediterranean section distracted me first. I decided to calm my nerves and stroll through, admiring Italian marble and Grecian vases.

Eventually, I wandered to the European Royals Collection. Large oil portraits decorated the long hall. I was always captivated by the remarkable attention to details. The folds in satin and silk, the white pallor of those who hardly went outside. Placing my toes right on the "do not cross" line, I inhaled the scent of a 1600s duke who still smelled of the oil paint. I didn't know why I liked the smell so much.

My head turned to navigate a path through the small crowd of people, and I caught a glimpse of the guy I saw earlier with the cane.

He met my gaze.

I stared longer than I would've liked. Quickly turned back to the painting in front of me. Well that was awkward. But his defined face wouldn't leave my mind. Maybe I should head to the medieval weaponry now.

Glancing around, I realized I would have to pass that guy in order to go to the correct wing. My nostrils flared. Even from here, his mysterious aura was already luring enough. Wait, what? Since when did I start crushing on people in real life? I forced my eyes on the duke who I had been standing in front of for far too long, but I could still see Scarf Guy in my peripherals.

He moved one painting closer than mine. Intently taking his time and inspecting every detail of the piece.

I knew if I didn't make a break for it soon, our paths would eventually cross in a more uncomfortable situation. I gathered my courage. Convinced myself to move now, keeping my eyes down. "Excuse me. Sorry."

His head bowed as he sidestepped.

 _Don't look at him. Don't look at him._ Though I felt his gaze lingering longer than necessary. But I didn't mind. I would've done the same if our places were reversed. I hated to be this cliché, but he was a piece of artwork himself, with his ebony hair, emerald eyes, and high cheekbones.

Not to mention, his black suit accented his long legs quite well. I also noticed he had on a green scarf that covered most of his white button-down, but a thin, black tie peeked through. The cane had an emerald shaft and an intricate gold head resembling my bag's knot work.

For now, I occupied myself with the arms and armory. In the brief moment I entered the exhibit hall, my brain took in the various swords, maces, shields, and pole arms. I studied each piece further before seating myself on an empty bench in front of long swords hanging on the wall.

My eyes scanned the first one. Taking in the etchings, lines, angles. I took out my sketchbook and opened to the first blank page. And then, I lost myself in the drawing process. Only looking up to sword for brief reference.

I was halfway through drawing two thirds of the swords when I was violently shoved. My drawing supplies spilled all over the floor. I caught myself on the bench, and my head whipped around. Sight focusing in on the teenager closest to me who was not as discreet as he so blatantly tried being.

"He's been staring at you since I first entered this wing. If I had known his intentions, I would've done something sooner."

Startling, I turned back to see Scarf and Cane Guy kneeling on the floor, gathering my scattered pencils. I moved to help him, but he motioned for me to stay seated.

His large hand with long fingers offered me the pencils. "This is what separates the men from the boys."

"I…uh, thank you." I took my stuff, trying hard to keep my cheeks from reddening. Since when did random guys pick up dropped things for a girl they didn't know? I blinked a couple times. I guess it's what made Scarf Guy a Scarf _Man_.

Then I groaned under my breath when I noticed the teenager gearing up for another pass.

Scarf Man's emerald eyes glistened mischievously as he pretended not to notice the young adult. Even turned his back. However, the tip of his cane protruded at the right moment, jamming the teenager in the knees and sending him to the floor.

"Hey," the teen boy cried as he searched for the culprit. He noticed the man dressed in black looming over like a bad shadow, and his eyes widened. His mouth opened and closed. Eventually, he ran away.

I fidgeted to keep from laughing. And to keep myself from falling for the wicked grin Scarf Man flashed in my direction.

Scarf Man picked up my sketchbook and sat beside me on the bench.

My gut churned as I reluctantly watched him study my sword scribbles.

He didn't once look at the weapons hanging on the wall before us. "The simple yet dangerous nature of these outlines is exquisite. Perhaps I'll have you design me a dagger."

"Oh." I nervously laughed. Was it getting hot in here? I'm pretty sure the heat kicked on in the museum, even though it was a summer day. "Oh, no, those are nothing. I was just toying with some ideas. Nothing final. Those are terrible."

Eyes meeting mine again, he slightly rose my sketchbook. "May I?"

I normally hated allowing people to see my art. Even with anonymous names, I only posted photography online. Perhaps…for him, I could make an exception. I was about ready to do anything to keep him sitting beside me. He smelled so nice. "I guess. Not everything is finished."

"Not everything has to be finished. It only takes a single spark to burn an entire world." He proceeded staring at every page with the intensity he used on the museum pieces. His face remained with the singular expression, but his eyes lit up with each new drawing.

My heart pounded harder than necessary, but the panic had set in. I couldn't tell if he liked them or not. I certainly wasn't fond of them. Not even my favorite ones. I hated everything I created. It was why I kept them to myself.

He regrettably closed the sketchbook and handed it back. "I must say, you have fantastic ideas and quite a range of tastes."

I shrugged a shoulder. "I mean, the theme is consistent. It's all fictional. Stuff I wish was real but isn't."

"What you deem as fictional is actually more real than you think."

I faced him, ready to smile, but he looked serious. He meant what he said. I studied him for an answer or reason. However, he said nothing.

He held my gaze a few moments longer then glanced away in almost shyness.

Despite myself, my heart skipped a beat. Could he have been seriously shy? I felt my cheeks warm when he looked at me again.

Rising, he held out a hand. "Would you care to join me for a stroll around the park?"

All of my senses abandoned me. Nothing warned me of the potential for being thrown into the back of a white van. Nothing alarmed me this man was a stranger, and I should deny his request and rush home as quickly as possible.

Nope. I accepted his offer. Allowed him to pull me to my feet. Even allowed him to carry my supplies. Thus, we left the art museum and began our walk.

He offered me his elbow, which I graciously held on to. My chic combat boots may have only had a small heel, but it was heel, nonetheless, and I was fairly certain I was the least graceful person on the planet.

Never had I felt so at ease with a member of the male species. My usual alarms weren't screaming. I felt…protected with him parading me around on his arm, his cane tapping the ground in time.

With warm smiles, he looked to me occasionally.

I found his silence comforting. He didn't drill me with questions or drowned out the sound of nature with his voice. Although, I could listen to him speak for hours. Even if I couldn't place his accent.

* * *

After an hour or so, he surprised me with the area's famous frozen custard, despite my instance to buy, and we now sat under a spreading willow tree overlooking the central lake.

I couldn't believe he sat directly on the ground in his obviously expensive suit. Although, he could most likely afford another one.

He caught me staring. "Is everything alright?"

Swiftly, I shoved a spoonful of custard into my mouth to give me time to form words. "Absolutely. I was just admiring your outfit." I casually waved my plastic spoon. "You have the confidence in it to conquer the world if you want to."

Eyes dropping, he flashed that grin I loved so much. "Thank you. You're quite beautiful yourself. Perhaps you're the one to conquer the world and declare yourself ruler."

My face reddened. I knew it did this time. "Believe me, I don't normally look like this. Today is a rare day. I'm normally in baggy clothes and slouched over."

"True beauty is found in courage, and today you've found the courage to step outside your comfort zone."

Another spoonful went into my mouth. I decided to switch the conversation away from me. "How about we rule the world together?" I thrust out a hand.

His mischievous grin spread across his face as he shook it. "When do we start?"

I giggled, setting my empty custard container aside. "How about now?" I nodded to a business man on his phone. "He can be our first minion. His briefcase has papers sticking out of it, so he's untidy, but the new watch and smart phone implies company material. I'm sure he has contacts."

He inclined his head. "I'm amused your first instinct is to find subjects. I'm sure they'll worship you."

My head shook, ponytail swishing back and forth. "I am nowhere near worthy enough to be worshipped. I just want minions because I'm lazy."

"But you're a goddess." His eyes darted to me as if he hadn't meant to say that. Then he looked away. Refusing to make eye contact with me.

I looked away, too, my face flushing again. Wishing for more of the frozen custard distraction.

The silence lingered on.

Steadying my breathing, I found the will to face him again.

He was already staring at me. "Don't expect me to apologize for speaking the truth. You are by far the most beautiful female creature I've ever seen in my years of existence."

I opened my mouth to speak but no words came. Softly giggling, I adverted my gaze. "Well, I'm glad I delight your presence."

"You needn't carry formalities with me. It is I who should be carrying formalities with you."

"What?" I knew I sounded incredulous, but I had never had a man treat me like royalty before. My brain remained undecided on a verdict. I stand, hoping he'll do the same. Watched his chest expand and release with an inaudible deep sigh.

He finally stood, towering by a good six or seven inches. "I can tell you're not used to allowing males the freedoms you've given me. You're uncertain of how to handle it. Yet, you are as comfortable with me as I am with you." His eyes searched mine, filled with so much sorrow. He took my hands and kissed them. "It's…because of this comfortableness, I must say farewell."

My heart stopped, and I choked on the air I didn't have. I knew our time together would have to come to an end, but I didn't expect it to end this soon. I blinked several times. Trying to comprehend this situation. "Um, I…."

Scarf Man squeezed my hands. "I know. I have invoked feelings and allowed myself to entertain feelings not meant for this world."

I waited for him to explain. Not meant for this world? What did that mean?

He shook his head. "There is too much for you to know. I wish not to burden you." He stared longingly into my eyes. "At least allow me the pleasure of accompanying you to your transportation."

"Yes," was all I could mutter. His tone had changed. His demeanor changed. He was filled with foreign sorrow. My mouth dried.

Inclining his head, he retrieved my art supplies and his cane. Offered me his elbow once again. We silently made our way back to my car, and he opened the door for me after I unlocked it.

I couldn't make myself get in. I turned to him, his expression filled with pain. My heart sank. "A-at least can I know your name?"

"They call me Loki. What is the name of my new curse?"

"They call me Lex." I fidgeted. "But today, I'm the Dragon Queen."

"And a queen you are." He leaned in and kissed my cheek. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Farewell, your highness."

My brain froze. I finally fell into my driver's seat and blankly started my car, startled by my loud radio. Turning it down, I went to look at him one last time, but he had already started walking away, cane still tapping in time. I pulled away while I still had my wits about me.

I drove around the park, disoriented. Tried wrapping my head around what had happened. What had happened? Did I really fall in love with a stranger I just met? Love at first sight? Did that even happen in the real world? I didn't know.

All I knew was I wasn't letting go that easily. I all but drifted through a roundabout. Drove as fast as I could through the park. In search of one man.

Then I spotted him as he stood under the willow tree, staring at the lake with his hands in his pockets. My foot mashed the brake pedal, and the car came to a screeching halt in a bad parking angle.

He turned around, a confused expression on his face.

I unbuckled myself and flung open the passenger door. "Get in," was my command.

One of his black eyebrows rose as he slid in. His eyes shifting back forth, searching me for an answer.

Shaking my head, I attempted catching my breath from the adrenaline. "I don't know…I just…I couldn't..."

He placed a hand on my arm. "You have truly captivated me. I regretted saying goodbye to you the moment my brain conjured the words."

"Then why did you?"

"It's a rather complicated story. I am not from here." He looks out the window momentarily. Turns back to me with a shy expression. "But I could stay. If you like." His resolve strengthened. "I will stay, should it please you."

"Yes," was all I said. Why wouldn't it please me? "I know it's madness—"

"Is it? Is it madness?" He intertwined his fingers with mine. "Is it madness two beings can recognize the same spark and act upon it? It is madness two beings could find a love depicted mostly in fairy tales? How can it be madness?"

I squeezed his hand. Never releasing his grasp or gaze. "Where are you from? I know you say it's complicated, but if we're to make this work, we need to know about each other. More than just feeling."

He nodded. "I know. But my story is not one meant for words. I will show you, show you all you need to know." He placed his hands on either side of my head, and I saw.

My eyes focused not on this world. On the one he showed me inside my head. I saw a place I suddenly knew to be Asgard, a tall, golden palace in the center of it all. I saw a king named Odin and his wife Frigga. I saw two boys, who I knew to be Loki and one named Thor. I saw magic. Great magic.

Time in this vision-world passed, and I watched the boys grow to be men. I watched their growing feud. I watched Loki discover his true identity and his small reign which ultimately ended up with him leaving Asgard and being lost to the stars.

In this vision, I saw everything in a moment's notice. Everything until this very moment. And I could feel. I felt every emotion he experienced, what those around him experienced. Although it focused around him, I watched both sides to the story.

Just as he saw and felt my story.

He released us from this exchange of mental information. Yet, he did not seem happy. Only more sorrowful. "Now you know why I had decided to leave you. I am immortal; you are not."

Tears welled up in my eyes. I was overwhelmed, still processing. I understood the differences between us. My simple lifetime had been a hundred lifetimes for him. "Isn't there something we can do? Can't I become immortal?"

His voice became hoarse. "No. I have yet to find a way. With all my knowledge of magic and sorcery, I don't think there's a way to make someone immortal. However," he materialized a vial full of black liquid from thin air. "There is another way."

My eyes widened. "No! I won't let you do it. You can't make yourself mortal. Not for me. I'm not worth it. Don't. Please, don't."

"I must. The cruel mistress of love has cast its spell, and I don't think I can live without you. When I came to Midgard, I was simply here to observe. I never once considered I could find love." Before I could protest more, he downed the contents of the vial.

I could only look on in horror. I didn't know what would happen.

An aura of green magic leaked from his entire being, and dissolved up into the air. He appeared just as confused as I did as he looked at his hands. "What is this? This…" Crying out in pain, he doubled over in the seat, holding his midsection.

"What is it? What's wrong?" My panic went into overdrive, and I had no idea what to do. "Tell me what to do. What can I do?"

He coughed up blood, the color drained from his face. "I-I'm…dying."

I placed a hand on the side of his face, half hoping this was a cruel joke, but there was no faking the fear in his eyes. Tears rolled down my face. We would have to say goodbye, after all.

* * *

A loud crash woke me up with a start. I shot out of bed, fighting the covers the entire time. The blanket wrestling knocked me off my bed and on to the ground. No matter how much I yelled in frustration, the sheets wouldn't let me go.

The room lit up with a blue-white flash.

I froze, part of the blankets sliding off my head. What was that?

Another round of thunder rumbled the home.

With a few more grunts, I managed unraveling myself from the murderous bedspread. But my strength was gone. I fell back against the bed. Realized I was covered in sweat, and my cheeks were encrusted with tears.

More thunder startled me. Sent me into a fresh round of sobbing. I gathered up the tossed aside blankets and gathered them around me. I needed comfort.

The door to the room flew open, a silhouette in the doorway highlighted by the lightning.

I screamed. Buried my head underneath the blankets. But I didn't care anymore. They could take me. Take me from this waking nightmare. I didn't want to be here anymore. Footsteps came toward me, making me tremble worse than I already was. Maybe I didn't want to be taken.

No, I didn't want to be taken. I released my best interpretation of a battle cry and thrashed about from under the blankets. Kicking and screaming. I'm pretty sure that's how I entered the world, and that's how I would go out.

Strong arms enveloped me. Yet, they didn't seize me. Wrapped around me in a comforting manner. And a familiar voice rung out over my yells. "It's okay. It's okay. You're safe."

Panting, I began to settle.

"Shhh. You're safe. I'm here. It's just me."

The blankets were pulled off my head. I shoved my hair away from my face. "Loki," I breathed.

He wiped the tears out of my eyes. "Yes. It's me. You're safe."

I all but flung myself at him and buried my head in his chest. Couldn't dam back my tears. My shoulders heaved up and down with my cries.

"What happened?" He stroked the back of my head. "Did the storm wake you?"

My eyes closed, and I sniffed. Cleared my throat. "No, it was my dream again."

His chest moved with an inaudible sigh. "I told you I can help with that. You need to be able to sleep."

"But it always starts out so nice."

"Yes, but it ends with you screaming yourself awake. It isn't healthy. I'm not leaving you; there's no need to live in fear."

"I can't just have you magically fixing all my problems. I have to learn to deal with them myself."

"You make a valid point, but I can't stand to see you this way."

I kept myself pressed against him. Wanting to change the subject. "Is the storm because of your brother?"

"No. Thor isn't on Midgard right now. This is simply your nature's weather. Regardless, I'm here to take care of you. Let's get you back in bed."

Before I could even try to rise, he simply picked me up and placed me on the bed. Covered me with the sheets. I grabbed his hand to keep him from leaving. "Please stay with me."

Loki offered a reassuring smile. However, he still crawled into bed. "I'm telling you, I'm fine. You're fine. And look," he made a small green flame appear in his palm, "I still have my magic. Nobody is hurt or dying."

"I know…I just. I'll try not to think about it."

He kissed my forehead, flicking away the magic. "Tell me how we actually met."

"But you already know."

"Humor me. Perhaps it will calm your brain, so you can sleep."

"Okay." I snuggled against him. "We did meet at the art museum during the exhibit, but we spent most of the time discussing the weaponry."

"Mm-hmm. Then what happened?"

"We went our perspective ways like normal strangers." I giggled, covering my eyes. "Until I literally ran into you a week later and spilled my coffee all down your suit."

He chuckled. "I wasn't sure what to do because you wouldn't stop apologizing. That's what startled me out the most."

"I didn't know what to do! At least you got to see me in more normal clothes. And then you're the one who bought me a new coffee. I was trying to buy you a new suit."

"I wasn't letting you buy me a new suit. Do you remember what else happened that day?"

My cheeks warmed, despite myself, and I kept my head in his shirt. "You snuck your phone number on my coffee cup. Do you know how much of a panic attack that put me through when I sent you the first text?"

"All you said was hi and your name."

"Still, though." I groaned. "I have high anxiety."

He played with my hair, smoothing it away from my face and braiding small strands. "And then we texted each other for a while, casually seeing each other when we had time."

I released a contented sigh. "Yeah. It was another month or so before we officially became a couple."

"See? We moved along just as everyone else does. And where are we going tomorrow?"

My eyes opened wide, and I sat up. "Asgard. We're going to freaking Asgard tomorrow to talk to Idunn."

Reaching up, he guided me back down to him. "Exactly. Everything will work out fine. I'm telling you, there's no need to worry."

"I know, I know. And you're usually right." I shimmied back into my original position. "I need to trust you more."

"You need to sleep." He kissed my forehead, pulling me closer to him. "Nothing will end in disaster. Relax and sleep. And then you can conquer the world and declare yourself ruler."

I smiled, my eyelids growing heavy. "How about we rule the world together?"

He chuckled and kissed me again. "When do we start?"

My eyes fully closed. Calmed by the warmth he exuded. "First thing tomorrow." I yawned. "I need sleep."

"Goodnight, my queen. I love you."


End file.
